Lorne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nomorekaraoke) wrote2013-08-28 04:31 pm
nomorekaraoke) wrote2013-08-28 04:31 pm
Entry tags:
[New York City, Manhattan, Spring of 2011]
Some two years ago, in one of the most famous cities in the world and beyond commonly referred to as the big apple, capitals b and a, it was a dark and stormy night.
No.
In truth, there was nothing about that day that prophesied the horrors to come. It was a clear, crisp day and the skies were bluer than a bajillion bluebells all snuggled up together in a bundle. The sun shone brightly, and Lorne's aura did its best to match.
It was a week to end all weeks, following on the tail end of a very busy few months. He had plans. He had business opportunities. He had made deals and signed contracts. He had collected debts and paid a few dues.
Life was good.
Life, as it just so happened, had decided to grant him a few hours' respite from his busy schedule, and there was nowhere else he'd rather be than his favorite Bar away from his own. He dressed for success of a different kind. He groomed himself to perfection, because he had a hunch he might be in for a hugging spree and he didn't want to disappoint. Nothing worse than smelling like the office when you meet old friends. Nothing worse than looking like you just rolled out of bed when you didn't.
Lorne would learn that day that his concept of 'nothing worse' was so far off the mark it wasn't even funny.
That day, when he opened the doors to his closet, he opened up a portal into sheer chaos. He stared into unseen depths; he saw The End, and in its midst...
"...Andrew?"
Andrew and Jonathan, and Bar and that darling AI that Lorne suddenly regretted never really talking to-- and monsters, and shadows, and teeth and fire so hot he could feel it peel his skin away. Heart suddenly stampeding, he lurched to the side and shouted through the doorway. For Andrew (panda bear), for Jonathan (Johnny boy with the cherub cheeks) and Bar, but mostly for the boys to get over here, damn you, NOW before the long hard road comes to a sudden stop, before everything is ripped to shreds get over here! Hey! Over here! Over h--!
He watched as white hot light shot through the Bar at the End of the Universe like nine millimeter rounds through flesh. He watched as one of his best friends in this world and beyond moved as if through a vacuum. Everything seemed to grind to a halt and twist into itself.
Something grabbed him by the horns; an invisible hand took him by the roots of his eyes and twisted. A door slammed shut in his mind: he collapsed on the spot.
When he came to, he was blind. When he came to, he couldn't breathe for how the air tasted like blood and sulfur.
The next day he told Angus he was going on vacation.
When someone asked him why the sudden one-eighty, the burnout white threatened his vision again and he hissed. Lorne never hissed. After that, no one asked him why. Angus made it very clear that No One Ask the boss anything, and Lorne refused to talk anything but business, whether he was in his office or calling in from the other side of the world.
Lorne had hit a wall that stretched on forever, and found no other way to cope than to turn around and walk away.
He had watched the end of life as he knew it, and he couldn't unsee it. Two years on, not even a world of smiling faces could change facts. He'd stood there and watched, and done nothing.
No.
In truth, there was nothing about that day that prophesied the horrors to come. It was a clear, crisp day and the skies were bluer than a bajillion bluebells all snuggled up together in a bundle. The sun shone brightly, and Lorne's aura did its best to match.
It was a week to end all weeks, following on the tail end of a very busy few months. He had plans. He had business opportunities. He had made deals and signed contracts. He had collected debts and paid a few dues.
Life was good.
Life, as it just so happened, had decided to grant him a few hours' respite from his busy schedule, and there was nowhere else he'd rather be than his favorite Bar away from his own. He dressed for success of a different kind. He groomed himself to perfection, because he had a hunch he might be in for a hugging spree and he didn't want to disappoint. Nothing worse than smelling like the office when you meet old friends. Nothing worse than looking like you just rolled out of bed when you didn't.
Lorne would learn that day that his concept of 'nothing worse' was so far off the mark it wasn't even funny.
That day, when he opened the doors to his closet, he opened up a portal into sheer chaos. He stared into unseen depths; he saw The End, and in its midst...
"...Andrew?"
Andrew and Jonathan, and Bar and that darling AI that Lorne suddenly regretted never really talking to-- and monsters, and shadows, and teeth and fire so hot he could feel it peel his skin away. Heart suddenly stampeding, he lurched to the side and shouted through the doorway. For Andrew (panda bear), for Jonathan (Johnny boy with the cherub cheeks) and Bar, but mostly for the boys to get over here, damn you, NOW before the long hard road comes to a sudden stop, before everything is ripped to shreds get over here! Hey! Over here! Over h--!
He watched as white hot light shot through the Bar at the End of the Universe like nine millimeter rounds through flesh. He watched as one of his best friends in this world and beyond moved as if through a vacuum. Everything seemed to grind to a halt and twist into itself.
Something grabbed him by the horns; an invisible hand took him by the roots of his eyes and twisted. A door slammed shut in his mind: he collapsed on the spot.
When he came to, he was blind. When he came to, he couldn't breathe for how the air tasted like blood and sulfur.
The next day he told Angus he was going on vacation.
When someone asked him why the sudden one-eighty, the burnout white threatened his vision again and he hissed. Lorne never hissed. After that, no one asked him why. Angus made it very clear that No One Ask the boss anything, and Lorne refused to talk anything but business, whether he was in his office or calling in from the other side of the world.
Lorne had hit a wall that stretched on forever, and found no other way to cope than to turn around and walk away.
He had watched the end of life as he knew it, and he couldn't unsee it. Two years on, not even a world of smiling faces could change facts. He'd stood there and watched, and done nothing.